Living is a whole new adventure when you suddenly find yourself alone, widowed and the mother of four young boys a lot like their Dad.
Date Nights with Grant
Dear Grant,
These 4 years since you died have been tough on me. I’ve been really angry at you and mostly for leaving. I’ve felt betrayed and abandoned by you, so I’ve pushed you away. Forgive me, I want to remember the good times.
Finding My Way
“Hey kids, you wanna go to the park where Dad used to go to fly?” A resounding yes boomed back at me. We were spending a few days in the warmth and sunshine of Southern Utah near where we used to live, once the colder weather started where we live up North.
Critic or Magic
I used to be so critical of myself. This picture, after we took it, I remember thinking how frumpy I thought I was. My hair frizzy and not done, my clothes baggy, my back hunched, my elbows chubby and no make up on. I hated how I looked in those pictures.
Caliber of Woman
I remember the words coming out of your mouth so clearly, Grant… of all that I do, all that I did, and what I mostly heard was only one part of it… ‘What kind of caliber woman would do that?’
Why I Keep Your Helmet
I keep the helmet you wore when you died in the storage room. I don’t see it often, but enough. On good days, I pass right by it. On hard days, I stare at it and forget why I came into the storage room. It is in the Grant section on a shelf where it stays.
Moped Memories
You told me you bought the moped to take the boys for rides. That was your excuse to buy it, the one that made sense and was logical. I know the real reason you bought it. When you lived in Hawaii that was your vehicle over there. I remember the stories you told me of how you felt free riding it all around the island.
I Didn’t Think About You Today
I just realized that I didn’t think about Grant today. At least not the way I have been. I’ve just lived my life today and it’s been an amazing day. I was reading through what I wrote about how every morning I wake up and the first thought I think is, “Grant isn’t here.” I realized for the first time in 20 months since you died Grant, that I didn’t wake up this morning thinking, another day without Grant.
All Your Stuff
I started crying today. Not because I missed you but because I saw your truck. It was in a video. All your people - the crew, they were in the truck. They were driving it to the mountains. It was a party for them. They are road tripping to film a video and doing it in your truck.
I Won’t Tell Your Secret
Grant crashed our motorhome on the drive home from the dealership within 3 hours of buying it. Oh shit… That’s the secret, I just told it. The one I promised him I wouldn’t tell. Well… that was when you were alive Grant. I kept that promise. I never told anyone while you were alive. I didn’t because you were important to me. How you felt was even more important to me. Telling your secret would have hurt you. I never wanted to do that.
Back To A Place We’d Been Before
I had an oddly familiar feeling as I walked the grounds of this hotel. Why did I feel as if I’d been there? We had just made a pit stop on our 10 hour drive to visit Grant’s brother and his family. A potty break for little boys and stretching for mom. Now that I road trip as a lone parent and the only driver with 4 little boys, I like to take my time. I make lots of stops to enjoy the journey with boys, kind of like what I’m trying to do in life now anyway.
The Last Picture
Grant had been dead for almost 3 months.
I took the boys to Cornbelly’s. It’s a fall festival with all sorts of fun turn-of-the-season games including a corn maze. It was nearly Halloween. It was the first ‘fun’ thing I’d taken the boys to do on my own.
